Selina’s POV
The flour cloud hung like a shroud in the plum-coloured gloom, suspended by the violent draft of the shattered doorway. Through the white haze, the twin amethyst fires of the incoming Trackers ignited. They moved with terrifying synchronicity, their crystal joints grinding like gravel under a heavy boot as they leveled their ten-foot silver pikes.
"Get behind me!" Finn’s baritone slammed into the space between us, raw and commanding.
He didn't wait for my compliance. His hybrid frame lunged forward, the iron-tipped fire poker whistling through the white dust as he intercepted the first thrust. The impact of the silver pike against his improvised weapon exploded into a shower of white-hot sparks, the high-frequency static of the silver-barding sizzling against his skin. A lo
